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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431558">Tipping the Scales</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoareyou0000/pseuds/Whoareyou0000'>Whoareyou0000</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Established Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Parent Gaius (Merlin), References to Depression, Romantic Fluff, angst if you squint, arthur has a thing for merlins butt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:53:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoareyou0000/pseuds/Whoareyou0000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin takes a potion every day. Arthur is determined to find out what ails the man he loves and how he can make him feel better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>448</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tipping the Scales</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur barely stopped to knock before stomping into the court physician’s chambers. He pushed the door wide open with a loud creak and eyed the old man currently hunched over a table filled with various powders and liquids. </p><p>Gaius looked up at his entrance, eyebrow raised. </p><p>“Good morning, sire. I take it you’re looking for Merlin?”</p><p>Arthur rolled his eyes. Are they really so obvious? </p><p>“Yes, well if he would actually arrive at my service on time, then I wouldn’t have to make it such a habit.” Gaius hid a smug smile behind a little cloth bag of…something. “Don’t tell me he’s at the tavern again.” </p><p>“No, sire.” Gaius stood and carried the little bag to the other side of the room. “You’ll find Merlin at the stables, readying your horses for today’s hunt. He left early this morning, practically without his shoes.”</p><p>A wave of guilt washed over Arthur. He sidestepped, swallowing a bit of his own pride, and backed towards the door. “Right. Thank you, Gaius. I’m sorry to disturb you.”</p><p>“I’ll beg you to wait, sire!” Arthur turned abruptly to find a bottle thrust into his palm. “May I trouble you to give this to Merlin? He failed to take it this morning. The boy would forget his own backside if it weren’t attached.” </p><p>Arthur bit back a grin at the mental image that provided and held the bottle against his chest.</p><p>“Of course, Gaius. I'll tell him as much.”</p><p>He took the stairs down to the street, muttering to himself the whole way about how he, the prince of Camelot, had somehow become a messenger boy for his manservant. Now Gaius had some errand for Merlin to run, if the potion gave any indication, which meant he’d be even more preoccupied than usual and take longer to tend to Arthur’s needs. The whole thing put Arthur in a sour mood by the time he reached the stables and he was pleased to find his servant in a vulnerable position while tending to his horses’ hooves. </p><p>A devilish temptation swept over him as he studied Merlin’s jutting backside from above. He pulled back his boot and held it there in mid-air. The boney but firm target swayed as Merlin gently let the horse's leg back down, whispering something under his breath to calm the animal. The horse sighed and Merlin snorted a gentle laugh. Something about the scene softened Arthur. He slowly lowered his boot and settled for a light nudge to Merlin’s bottom instead. </p><p>The idiot still yelped of course. He grabbed his arse as if he’d been rightfully kicked and turned his head with a questioning smile.</p><p>“Oy! What was that for?” </p><p>Arthur froze his face in a stern expression and tensed his body to reflect his general displeasure. Merlin stood, one hand still firmly planted on his behind, and met the glare with those wide ‘I’m so innocent and everyone loves me’ eyes. Arthur huffed, attempting to harden his relaxing resolve, and finally bopped the servant over the head as a compromise.</p><p>“Ouch!”</p><p>“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin.” He turned and started towards the square. When he didn’t hear the patter of eager footsteps behind, he stopped. “Are you coming, then? Or would you rather I postponed our hunting trip to accommodate your schedule?” </p><p>“Right behind you, sire.” Merlin eventually caught up, leading Arthur’s steed and his own horse alongside. They traipsed the square in comfortable silence until Merlin, of course, intruded. “Did something happen? Was it your father again?”</p><p>Arthur closed his eyes, chasing away all thoughts of his earlier conversation with the king. </p><p>“Merlin, you aren’t to ask me such questions. It’s improper.” </p><p>“Not exactly proper for the prince to knock his servant’s backside either, <i>your majesty.</i>” </p><p>He added the last part as an afterthought, of course. Arthur about-faced and met Merlin head on. Those big eyes held a dare about them now, his bait well-received. The prince couldn’t help but give just as much back in a bout of intense eye contact that lasted minutes and practically dissolved his bones with their shared heat. The whole thing ended in a familiar fluttering in his gut and he found that he longed to smile for the first time that morning. </p><p>Finally, with a cock of his head, he backed down. </p><p>“Yes, well consider it a reminder that you have one.” He held his gloved hands up, potion and all, and gave a little smirk. “A message from Gaius.” </p><p>Merlin’s eyes narrowed and his mouth grew into an obnoxious smile. Then he took all of the reins in one hand and reached forward with the other.</p><p>“Is that my tonic? I must have forgotten it this morning.” He plucked the glass vial from Arthur’s palm, uncorked it, and then downed the entire concoction in one swift swallow. Then he recorked the bottle and dropped it into his jacket pocket. “Thank you, sire.” </p><p>Arthur watched, perplexed, as his manservant led the horses ahead without another word of the potion. He caught up with a few large steps and studied the smaller man carefully. Merlin walked with confidence, steady and strong, and smiled back at the horses. His complexion appeared warm and rosy and his face lacked the sheen of a fevered sweat. </p><p>They reached their point of stop and Arthur couldn’t bear the suspense any longer.</p><p>“Are you sick, Merlin?” </p><p>The younger man turned his eyes, blue as the morning sky, up and raised his brow in question. </p><p>“No, sire. I feel quite well.” He pursed his lips and then moved forward, placing wandering hands upon Arthur’s forehead and face. “Why? Are you feeling ill? If so, I can get Gaius…”</p><p>“Get off me, Merlin!” Arthur batted the servant away and raised his hand, silencing the concerned ramble. “I’m not the one who just downed an entire potion. If you’re unwell you should tell me. Your sluggishness will only slow down our hunt and Camelot cannot afford to lose food reserves this winter.”</p><p>The words stung. They parroted the conversation, or rather lecture, he’d endured with his father earlier. That general feeling of inadequacy returned like a punch to the face, leaving Arthur blindsided. Merlin seemed to sense all of this as his posture drooped and his face relaxed into an encouraging grin. He led the horses around to their positions and spoke casually as he secured the remainder of their supplies to the saddles.</p><p>“I’m not ill, sire. I take a potion every morning. Gaius makes it just for me, to keep me well.” </p><p>Arthur followed him around to the other side of the horse, his curiosity peaking. He studied a spot of muck upon the ground and carefully probed further.</p><p>“Keeping you well implies that you’re ill, Merlin. What could someone as young as yourself need to remain healthy?” </p><p>Merlin shrugged, testing the tautness of the saddle straps. “It’s a mixture of herbs. The flower of hypericum perforatum mixed with a bit of lavender and some others.” Satisfied with one saddle, he moved onto the other. “I was a whiney boy, ever since I arrived.” Merlin’s serious expression averted any opening for Arthur’s verbal tease. “My mother said I cried all the time and never smiled. Once I didn’t get out of bed for weeks because everything just felt…hopeless. She called Gaius to help, and he put together this tonic. It worked, so now I take it every day.” </p><p>Arthur’s horse knickered. Merlin placed a hand upon his flank, quelling the animal at once. Arthur took the reins from Merlin, brushing their hands together briefly, if only to get close enough to learn more. </p><p>“A cure for hopelessness? I’ve never heard of such an illness, much less a cure.” </p><p>Merlin looked up from where his hands worked on one last buckle and smiled brightly. Arthur recognized the lightness that came from within Merlin whenever he found an opportunity to teach his craft. He felt himself drawn closer, a willing student needing to understand how this mysterious ailment affected his servant. </p><p>“Gaius says that there is a great scale in our minds, one that balances between happiness and sadness. In most minds, the scale remains level. In mine, the scale is heavier on the side of sadness. The potion puts just enough weight on the side of happiness and makes me feel better.” </p><p>Arthur hummed. Merlin shrugged. He squeezed between his master and the horse, reaching for the saddle and clumsily stepping into the stirrup. “Don’t suppose it helps much with my memory, now does it? If not for Gaius I’d…” </p><p>With that Merlin stumbled and fell backwards. Arthur caught him around his middle, one hand landing exactly on the aforementioned backside, and boosted his meager weight back up into the saddle. Merlin looked down, his cheeks a lovely shake of pink, and grinned sheepishly. </p><p>“You’d what? Forget your backside?” Arthur felt the foolish smile come across his face, mirroring that of his servant. “Don’t worry, I won’t allow that to happen.” </p><p>He climbed upon his own horse, quickly ensuring his weapons were at the ready, and nudged them forward. Merlin followed alongside and about a step behind. They kept a steady and quiet pace and Arthur found himself glancing back, one last question plaguing his mind.</p><p>“Merlin, this broken scale of yours. Would you say that <i>Leon</i> adds to the sadness end of it?” Arthur’s face warmed and he could practically hear Merlin’s smirk. “I know he can be a bit of a prat, always hollering at you and ordering you around.” </p><p>Their horses matched stride at the opening of the forest, the canopy providing a comforting shade. Merlin peered at him with gentle humor, causing his gut to go fluttery again. </p><p>“Don’t forget the shoving, kicking, knocks about the head, grabbing my arse...” Arthur’s gut inflated with guilt and was quickly squashed by the warmth in Merlin’s shimmering eyes. “No, Arthur. <i>Leon</i> has nothing to do with my sadness. In fact, I find I’m quite happy when he’s around. Something about having a <i>friend,</i> I suppose.”</p><p>Arthur nodded, acknowledging their private and most intimate definition of friendship. </p><p>“Right. Well, if <i>Leon</i> does get out of hand, you’ve my permission to tell him to sod off.” The euphemism fully landing, Arthur’s hackles rose. He suddenly felt the need to clarify. “To be perfectly clear, Leon, <i>the actual Leon,</i> hasn’t touched your…arse…correct?”</p><p>Merlin laughed, his whole body shaking with joy. The greenish hue of the forest reflected in his eyes and bathed him in shimmering light. His breathtaking smile bloomed. The whole image would have brought Arthur to his knees if he hadn’t a horse to keep him upright. He fought to maintain a stern face, though humor inevitably smoothed over its sharp edges.</p><p>“Merlin!”</p><p>“Of course not, Arthur. Come along.” He snuck a devious glance to his master. “I’ve some ideas that will tip both of our scales to happiness.” </p><p>A kick sent Merlin’s horse off towards the lake, where they would certainly defy the king's orders yet again. Arthur nudged his steed into a faster pace, vowing to put that smile upon his <i>friend’s</i> face at every opportunity.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or the angst and tension within. </p><p>Author's Note: I'm still working on my chapter fic, but I've had this just sitting and figured I'd send it out into the void. I hope it will make someone's day a little happier. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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